


wildfire

by infernum



Series: there’s lessons you learn, bridges you burn [1]
Category: Good Girls (TV)
Genre: 2x4, Bathroom Sex, Be safe and wrap it up kids!, F/M, PICK YOUR POISON, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Semi-Public Sex, Vaginal Sex, no beta we die like men, unprotected sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-10
Updated: 2019-04-10
Packaged: 2020-01-11 04:34:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18422907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/infernum/pseuds/infernum
Summary: She's looking at him right now like she can hear everything that's in his head, like she knows his hearts running a mile a minute just from seeing her under the bars lights that makes her hair look like fire and her eyes are burning hot too. She looks like a goddess on any other day but with the way she's looking at him like she's clicked on just what he really is, Elizabeth is something other worldly that's burned a millennia for so many people just so they could stay warm, and now she's all hellfire for herself.—Season 2, Episode 4 - the bathroom scene, uncut, in Rio's POV.





	wildfire

**Author's Note:**

> Since I've been a mess over these two since season 1 last year, I'm now even MORE of a mess now they've finally done the Get That Good Dicking Deed. God bless the GG writers, they're really out there providing us the best service we can get.
> 
> As stated in the tags, there is unprotected sex. This is a note that y'all should wrap it before you tap it! (Also I believe that Beth has her tubes ties after her last kid because four kids is really enough. She also probably – definitely – got herself checked out after she found out Dean was cheating and she came back clean, and you know Rio is careful enough to not get anything but still, condom's are important.)

She's always looking at him like she's trying to solve the world’s hardest puzzle, like she doesn't understand what he is and why he does what he does but she knows _who_ he is, and, honestly, she probably knew that from the moment she saw him in her kitchen with his guys.

Rio knows what she is (a hard-working, kind, devoted mother, who takes no crap from her kids but gives them everything they need, who still puts up with the car man's crap because her kids happiness is the most important thing in her life) and he knows why she does what she does. What he doesn't know is who _she_ is.

If Rio just saw her out on the street he would definitely take two looks, take in those lips and cheekbones, those goddamn legs he can't stop thinking about at two in the morning when he's laying in bed and pretending he ain't thinking about her. He would look twice but not a third time.

She looks like a mama bear, looks like she protects her cubs with everything in her, but there's no bite or nothing like that when she's walking like a mama bear. Strong but docile because she's gotta be able have her kids in order to know they're safe and to keep them safe—she can't keep them safe if she's taking bites out of every asshole that's in her way, including asshole car man. If she took a real bite out of him, he would sign those divorce papers and take a bite out of every good thing she has left, and that's including even just supervised visits with the kids. Car man would find a way, he's sly and slippery enough to do it; he's gotten away with at least fifteen years of marriage making Elizabeth feel like a fading wife, cheating, losing their money, the whole cancer lie, and even now he's still making her feel like she's less than what she truly is.

She's looking at him right now like she can hear everything that's in his head, like she knows his heart's running a mile a minute just from seeing her under the bar lights that makes her hair look like fire and her eyes are burning hot too. She looks like a goddess on any other day but with the way she's looking at him like she's clicked on just what he really is, Elizabeth is something other worldly that's burned a millennia for so many people just so they could stay warm, and now she's all hellfire for herself.

She's twirling some hair in her fingers, a hunger for more than what she used to think she deserved in her eyes. He can hardly breathe, his chest tight and an electrified pulse ricocheting through his bones. He can hardly believe after months of wanting to have her in his arms, squirming and trembling beneath him, on top of him, around him, wanting to just _take her_ until she felt like the boss bitch she really is underneath that bullshit Stepford wife act she's had to maintain all these years. It's a goddamn miracle he hasn't broken and begged her to let him get just a little touch of her. He'd even take being used by her until she had her fill and left him sore and wanting more.

Those damn hips of hers are swaying side to side as she walks away towards the toilets, leaving Asshole Car Man at the table waiting for her to come back. Rio is sure she's said his name before but he couldn't care less about remembering it. He's not worth his time and thoughts—hell, car man ain't worth her time and thoughts either.

He's following in behind her after a minute, making sure car man doesn't see him even though he wants to walk right past him and just stare at him as he keeps walking by so he knows what's about to happen, that Rio is gonna fuck Elizabeth and make her come so hard she's gonna see stars before heading back home with bruises on her hips that match his fingerprints. But he doesn't do it because she wouldn't want that and, despite what she might think after all his (empty) threats, he wants whatever she wants.

Rio looks around quickly before he opens the door and steps inside, heart pounding in his ears so hard and fast it sounds like storm waves crashing into him, trying to drown him with how much he wants this, wants to touch her and feel her skin against his as she moans his name and holds him tight as he pushes her higher and higher.

She's staring at him in the mirror like she wants to eat him up right there in the bathroom and leave whatever she couldn't finish behind for some poor sap to find. If that's what she wanted, he would probably let her.

She doesn't kiss him like he wants, like he's wanted for months now; instead, she steps in close to him and locks the door before turning back around and leaning her hips against the counter, lightly trailing her fingers up her creamy thighs and hiking her dress up. She ain't even looking at him anymore—she's got her eyes cast down like she's embarrassed this is what she wants, or ashamed of the stretch marks on her thighs like ladders leading up to heaven, to where he really wants to be right now. Maybe she's just playing coy, reeling him in with the shy housewife routine she's so good at playing.

He's got his hands on her thighs, his chest pressed against her back and she's arched beautifully against him, pressing into his cock and he wishes he could snap his fingers to make his pants disappear. He wishes he could find enough breath in his lungs to say something, anything, to let her know he doesn't want this to be a one time thing, that he wants to worship her for as long as she wants him around. He can't, though, because it might break this moment and he'll take what he can get right now, even if it means he won't get to taste her lips on his and map out her mouth with his tongue until they absolutely have to pull apart to breathe.

He's so damn impatient he's half ripped her panties off of her and he's bending her over the counter, one hand on her shoulder and the other at her hip so he can angle her just right against him. He's grinding against her, his zipper probably catching on her skin and it's definitely gonna leave marks on that goddess like skin of hers. He feels like he's gonna jump out of his skin or burn up from the inside out—there's something deep in his gut that's starting an inferno because he's finally got her in his hands and she's still fucking looking at him in the mirror like she's a starved woman and he's a full and hearty three course meal.

He's half fumbling at his zipper with one hand and pushing her dress up higher at her waist with his other hand, biting at the inside of one cheek so he doesn't saying anything because if he speaks right now he knows he'll say something stupid that will make her stand up straight with her shoulders back and chin held high like she always does when she's done with him and she'll walk out back to that fucking car man. She’ll head home with no burning muscles or marks made by him and he can't have that.

He's inside her now and if he thought he couldn't breathe before, he definitely can't now.

God, she's so wet already and they haven't even really gotten started. He's still easing himself in and out of her in tiny increments, trying to convince himself he's letting her get used to the feel of him but honestly he's just trying not to come. His jaw is slack and his lips are parted, huffing breaths out each time he pushes back in and they're staring at each other in the mirror. Her lips are red from where she's biting at them like she's trying not to say anything as well, like she's scared a single word will ruin this.

Her hair is starting to fall into her face, covering those wild eyes of hers. He doesn't want that—he wants her to see everything she's doing to him and everything he's doing to her. He leans forward slightly and slides his fingers into her hair to pull it back but he gets distracted by how smooth the skin is on her cheek. Her skin is like marble, all smooth and bright; she's glowing from the inside out like she's going to explode and cause a supernova.

She's pushing back and he thinks it's over, that she's come back to her senses and can't believe she's let this happen, but instead she turns and walks backwards until she's pressed against the wall, her fingers interlocked with his and she hooks a leg around his waist and presses and rubs herself against his cock. The slick, wet noises almost does him in. He almost kisses her then. He's close enough that he probably could get a couple of seconds on her lips before she would realise what was happening, but this isn't what it's about and he's so close to coming that he puts that thought aside for another time.

He wraps his arms around her and lifts her up, tucking one hand under her knee and hooks that one around him too before thrusting back into her, coaxing a whimper that spreads into a breathy whine when he pulls back and pushes back slightly harder. She looks at him with those fired up, wild eyes of hers, silently demanding that he hurries the fuck up, eyes flitting to the door so quick he almost doesn't catch it.

Oh. Yeah. Asshole Car Man is waiting at the table for her. They've probably taken too long already and she'll have to come up with an excuse about where's she's been and what she was doing. She can't tell him that she was getting fucked by the gangbanger friend that shot him not too long ago in the toilet—well, she could tell him, it's just that she won't because he's still the father to her kids and she's always trying to make things right, keep things good and light—so he hikes one leg a bit higher up so her knee is tucked under his armpit and goes to town on her.

He wants to say _look at you, fucking perfect, beautiful, want to keep you like this forever, want you to keep holding me like I'm everything you ever wanted_ , but he doesn't. Instead he clenches his jaw shut and buries his head where her shoulder meets her neck and doesn't even let himself whine and groan like he wants to in case he bursts open. He keeps his mouth shut and lets her take what she wants, grinding her hips into him as he fucks gasps and whimpers out of her.

He faintly hears a noise like she's hit something but he can't concentrate on anything that isn't him being inside her. She's like a furnace around him, tight but malleable on his cock, and hotter than anything he's ever felt before. He can tell how close she is just from the way she's breathing heavier and how her nails are digging harder into his skin. He's gonna have marks and scratches but he can't find it in him to give a shit. He's finally got this goddess of a woman holding on to him for dear life and he won't stop until he's got her limp and whimpering in his arms.

She's biting at the junction between his neck and shoulder now, trying to keep her noises down as she starts clenching around him, and all he can think as he pants wetly into her neck is her name like it's a prayer.

 _Elizabeth, Elizabeth, Elizabeth, Elizabeth, Elizabeth_.

He's pumping his hips wildly now, losing that perfect control he always has to have in his line of work. She's breaking him down and she doesn't even know it.

 _Elizabeth, Elizabeth, Elizabeth, Elizabeth, Elizabeth._  

She's choking out whimpers, one hand tearing at his back with her nails and the other holding the back of his head, fingernails scraping against his shaved hair, keeping him tucked into her and he's sucking at her skin, lapping at the sweat that's pooling there. 

 _Elizabeth, Elizabeth, Elizabeth, Elizabeth, Elizabeth_.

Those storm waves he heard earlier are all over him, around him, inside him—he's gonna drown in her and he doesn't even care. 

 _Elizabeth, Elizabeth, Elizabeth, Elizabeth, Elizabeth_.

She's coming. Hard. Her teeth nearly breaking the skin at his neck, clenching and pulsing around his cock and fuck, he's coming too, not even two seconds after hers crashes into her full force. He thinks he hears her gasping his name a couple of times until she catches herself and starts to just whimper instead, but there's a ringing in his ears and his vision is clouded by white spots so he can't be a hundred percent sure. It takes him a second to realise he's making this half crying, half choking whine before he shuts himself up.

 _Elizabeth_.

He can hear the music outside again. He can hear both of them panting and the voices outside the door, completely unaware of what just happened only a few metres away between the two of them. 

She's pushing at him, pushing him away, unwrapping her shaking legs and settling her feet on the ground. He takes a step away from her and she walks to the mirror, correcting her make up and hair, smoothing down her dress.

She takes a quick look at him in the mirror then bends down to pick up her ripped panties, taking a second to look at them before turning around to face him with that homely sort of smile that you can't help but trust. He feels her hand at her hips and she leans forward and gently kisses him on the cheek.

He lets out a breath he hadn't realised he was holding and gives her his signature grin. She unlocks the door and closes it behind her.

He goes to tuck himself back in his pants when he notices that she's tucked the torn up panties in his front pocket. He knows he's grinning like a madman as he strokes at the fabric and he knows, _he knows_ , this ain't gonna be a one time thing.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you guys think!! Criticism is accepted but only if it's constructive. I accept any and all types of praise because I am a major slut for praise.


End file.
